Yesterday was Lucas' first day of preschool.
I had readied myself for a good long cry in the parking lot. Some tears as we headed out the door. Taking first day photos through watery eyes and hoping they weren't all blurry.
But, to my surprise, I didn't cry at all.
Sure my heart swelled when Daddy helped him put on his backpack. When he skyped his grandparents to say goodbye, all smiles and big boy pride. While I listened to him chatter about how excited he was in the back seat of the car. When he stepped through the front door and headed right on into his classroom, like he'd been here a thousand times before.
Sure I came close a few times.
But when he kissed me and hugged me and said goodbye, it wasn't as sad as I thought it would be. As soon as I stood up from our embrace he was gone. Playing, laughing, making friends. And I knew he was right where he wanted to be. Where he needed to be. He was totally in his element, leading his little life with a confidence I'm still searching for. He was all in. He was ready for a new world and novel adventures.
I was so damn proud, I wished I could melt into the wall and watch him all day. My baby, my big boy, he's already everything I ever hoped he would be. His spirit, his joy, his confidence, his energy, his sense of adventure...he's got it all, and I hope he never loses it. I hope he grows in it, builds upon it, reaches those heights he hasn't yet imagined.
I felt, in that moment of parting, that I'd been given a glimpse of the future. Of the man he would someday be. Someone happy and full of life and calm of spirit.
Someone who takes the moment you thought would be sad, and shows you how to smile.